


My Kiss Can Mend Your Broken Heart

by bluemadridista



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Drama, Established Relationship, Euro 2012, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Heartbreak, M/M, Mushrooms, spain nt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-05 17:52:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1826995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluemadridista/pseuds/bluemadridista
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David Silva and David Villa break up before the Euro 2012 competition, and Silva struggles to keep it together. Lucky for his, he has adorable little Cesc as a roommate, and somehow the goofy little Catalan manages to win his heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing, but the ideas. I don't know any of these guys (but I wish I did)...
> 
> Summary: In this chapter, we see the demise of Silvilla, and the first inklings of something between Cesc and Silva. And some naughty bits. ;)
> 
> **The fic is marked explicit, but not all of the chapters will be.**  
> **The title is from "Over Again" by One Direction. I don't own it**

Since his move from Valencia to Manchester City, David Silva had looked forward to call-ups to the National team more than he ever had before. When Manchester City refused to pay for both he and David Villa, Silva was left without his best friend and his lover. He relied on the call-ups to reunite them.

With the summer of 2012 came the Euros, time for the defending champions to spend quite a lot of time together. Silva had anticipated it since the beginning of 2011. When Villa broke his leg, Silva thought he would die. He prayed that Villa would heal in time. When the Euro squad was announced without Villa’s name, Silva spent hours sobbing on the phone to his lover. Villa comforted him even when he irrationally proposed that he refuse to join the squad and join him in Barcelona instead.

Villa had only meant to convince Silva that he could never bail on his country, but he had slipped and mentioned Patricia. Why had he done that? “You can’t come here, Mago. Patricia and the girls are here.” That was all it took for Silva to fly off into complete hysterics. He had never taken well to the idea that Villa had a whole separate love life apart from theirs. Silva had never been with another man or woman since he started seeing Villa.

Quite quickly, the conversation that was meant to be comforting and reassuring twisted into accusing (on Silva’s part), defending and condescending (on Villa’s part), and worst of all unforgiving (on both parts). On a crackling line from Manchester to Barcelona, a romance that some thought would never end exploded into a million pieces.

Silva was dismayed to find that he was sharing a room with Cesc for the entirety of the Euro Cup competition. It wasn’t like he didn’t like Cesc. Just about everybody liked Cesc. He was like a goofy puppy – an incredibly attractive, talented puppy. Silva usually loved that about him. His light, fun personality was so easy to be around, but Silva was in no mood for light and fun. It had been weeks since his horrid break-up with Villa and he still wasn’t over it. He refused to take calls from Villa and after only a few days (an alarmingly short amount of time, Silva thought), Villa quit calling. Silva’s mood had gone from bad to worse.

He sat with his head in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees, on the edge of his hotel room bed. He was brooding, cursing Villa in his head, and considering again bailing on this whole thing. He wouldn’t go to Barcelona, no, but he could find somewhere to be. Joe Hart had always been a great friend and Silva knew for a fact that he had always wanted to be more than friends. Where was he? Silva was pondering the location of his teammate when Cesc opened the door and stumbled in. He dropped (practically threw) his bags in the middle of the floor.

“SILVI!” He exclaimed. Before Silva could speak or even hold his hands up to ward Cesc off, Cesc had pounced on him, and shoved him back on the bed.

“Cesc, get off me,” Silva grunted.

“No! I missed you!” Cesc squealed. His grin couldn’t have been bigger. He looked like the Joker from _Batman_. He feathered kisses over Silva’s forehead and down onto his nose and cheeks. “How are you, Silvi? Didn’t you miss me?”

“Cesc, of course, but…”

Cesc placed his lips to Silva’s lips in a quick, friendly way. “I knew you did!” he said excitedly.

Silva stared up at Cesc, completely taken aback. He had never, _ever_ felt any kind of feelings for any guy aside from Villa, but he could swear he felt something when Cesc kissed his lips.

Cesc pushed off him and jumped up. Silva shook the thought from his head. He was imagining things, obviously.

Cesc bounced over to his bed and flopped down onto it. “It’s going to be so much fun rooming together. Don’t you think, Silvi?”

Silva sat up slowly and stared over at Cesc. He was wearing tight dark jeans. His legs hung over the bed. His tight jeans clung to his crotch, showcasing it well. Silva blinked. Why was he getting turned on…by Cesc, of all people?! He was a goof, a joker, annoying sometimes. Why would he be turned on by him?

“Well, I’ll think it for you!” Cesc said, tossing one of the pillows from his bed over in Silva’s general direction. He was a good aim and Silva had to duck to miss it.

“What? Um, yeah, it’ll be fun,” Silva muttered.

Cesc jumped off his bed again. He could never sit, or lay, still for too long. “I’m gonna get a shower. That flight was a long one.”

Silva nodded absently. Cesc whipped his shirt over his head. Silva gulped and tried to tear his eyes away from Cesc’s smooth milky chest.

“You okay with that?” Cesc asked. Silva jumped. “Jeez, David, you’re jumpy,” Cesc said with a laugh.

“Sorry,” Silva said, turning his eyes to the floor.

“It’s okay. Is it alright if I take a shower first or did you want one?”

Silva suddenly had the overwhelming urge to invite himself to join Cesc. He bit his lip hard and shook his head. “You go ahead. I’ll just get one later.”

“Fuck,” Cesc hissed as he locked the bathroom door behind him. _What am I doing_? He demanded of himself. When he had placed that “friendly” kiss to Silva’s lips, he wanted to keep kissing him. He wished their lips would never have to part. How could he think that?! Villa would kill him whether he and Silva had broken up or not. He would come all the way to Poland and murder him.

Cesc cursed himself as he stripped and climbed into the shower. He was half hard from the thought of Silva. He climbed under the hot spray of the water and slowly jerked himself. Images of Silva flooded his mind as he slowly tugged at his cock.

Silva lay on his back on the bed with his hand buried in boxer shorts. He thought of that feeling, that spark that he felt from Cesc’s lips, and the way Cesc was suddenly so ridiculously attractive to him as he stroked himself, slowly at first, but quickening his pace as his climax neared.

Cesc came hard against the shower wall, moaning and groaning as he leaned against the hard tile wall. At the same moment, Silva shot his load into his boxers. He moaned and arched his back off the bed.

Whatever this was with Cesc, he had to figure it out. He had to do something about it.

Forgetting Villa and the possibility that he could die at his hands, Cesc decided that he had to make a move on Silva. He had to try for something with him. He would never get that face, those lips, that touch…out of his mind, if he didn’t.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dudes get together for a round of Truth or Dare after their first training session, and well... drama. Lots of drama.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your positive response to the first chapter! I hope you guys enjoy this one! Please feel free to leave your comments if you enjoy. :')

The next morning, the National Team was set for their first day of training. During their stretches, Cesc wanted to grab Silva and partner up, but Silva was already partnered with Xabi. He was already on the ground on his back with Xabi between his legs. Cesc watched as Xabi’s right hand squeezed Silva’s left thigh. His left hand gripped Silva’s right calf as he pushed Silva’s leg up toward his torso.

On some level, he knew he was imagining it, but it was nonetheless bothersome when he saw a glint of lust in Xabi’s eyes as he leaned over the small Canarian. Xabi’s hand seemed to travel further up Silva’s thigh until finally he was palming at Silva’s package through the thin fabric of his football shorts. He dropped Silva’s leg and bent down over him, grinding their cocks together. Cesc bit his lip and tightened his fists at his sides.

“Fabregas!”

Cesc jumped into the air and squealed in shock when Pique shouted his name from behind him. He clutched his rapidly beating heart as his eyes focused on Xabi and Cesc. They were stretching normally, of course. Xabi’s hands nor cock were nowhere near Silva’s. Cesc cursed himself for being too horny and letting his imagination run wild.

“What are you staring at, Cesc?” Pique asked, walking in front of Cesc.

Cesc frowned and looked up at the tall Spaniard that towered over him. “Nothing. What are you doing?”

“Making you stretch with me,” Pique said, wrapping his arm around Cesc’s neck and pulling his small frame against his side.

Silva had glanced over in Cesc’s direction as soon as he heard Pique shout his name. He watched as Pique held Cesc tight to his body and leaned over. He appeared to be kissing Cesc’s head, but Silva hoped he was just whispering something to him. But what could he be whispering? Silva’s mind began to conjure all sorts of things Pique could be whispering – sordid, smutty things – the kinds of things Silva might think if they were naked, sweating, and pressed together, but would never be bold enough to say aloud.

“Silva, you okay?” Xabi asked, ripping Silva from his worrisome thoughts.

“Yeah, Xabi, I’m okay. Sorry. It’s your turn, isn’t it?” Silva shook his head as he stood and traded places with Xabi. He cursed himself in his mind for thinking such things. How could he let his imagination run even if he did want Cesc so bad he could barely stand it?

That night after a long day of practice and a team dinner, several members of the NT crowded into their captain’s room. He was sharing with Xavi whom he had started officially seeing only a few months earlier. Xavi was curled against his captain’s side on the end of the couch, looking much younger than usual as Iker absently ran his fingers through his black hair that wasn’t loaded down with product for once. At the opposite end of the couch, Fernando was perched on Sergio’s lap, placing soft, almost unnoticeable kisses on his lover’s neck. Pique sat between the two couples, because he was the only one bold enough to sit between that much love and sexual tension. Jesus sat in one of the two armchairs. Pepe, Jordi, Javi, and Arbeloa sat at a little table playing cards.

Silva and Cesc arrived at the same time, coming from the same room and all. They stood, just inside the door, and surveyed the room. The only free seat was the armchair opposite Jesus.

Silva picked at a loose thread at the hem of his t-shirt and chewed at his bottom lip. “You can take the chair,” he finally said. “I’ll sit on the floor.”

Cesc frowned inwardly, but kept a straight face for everyone. “We could share if you want. It’s a big chair. I think we’d both fit okay.”

“So, what are we doing?” Pique asked as Cesc and Silva settled – awkwardly – into their chair.

“Last call-up we played Truth or Dare,” Sergio reminded everyone. “That was fun.”

“I need a drink if we’re going to start that,” Iker admitted.

Pique climbed up from the couch and walked to the mini-bar. He returned with several bottles of liquor. He handed one to each of the “couples” and one to Jesus. Jesus blushed and placed the bottle in his lap. He didn’t drink a lot. He hated the thought of being drunk and doing something stupid in front of a crowd.

After they’d all taken a few swigs from their bottles, Pique started the game off, daring Sergio to call down to the front desk and flirt with the clerk that seemed to have a crush on the Sevillian. Sergio’s phone was on speaker, so they could all hear everything. Fernando scowled at the phone the entire time and finally snatched it away when the clerk asked Sergio for a date.

“I don’t think so!” He snapped. “He’s taken,” he added before pressing the “end” button.

“Aww, Baby. It was a joke,” Sergio soothed, kissing Fernando’s cheek and neck. “You know I love you,” he whispered in his ear.

Pique just laughed at the sight of the lovers and ordered Sergio to hurry up and take his turn. The dares and ridiculous questions went on through the room for twenty minutes before Pique – who had been dared to lick Pepe’s head – finally dared Cesc. Cesc and Silva had been sitting blissfully uninvolved for the last twenty minutes, but they jerked up in the chair at Pique’s dare.

“I dare you to kiss Silva – on the mouth, for at least a minute.”

Cesc gulped, but tried to hide his nervousness. Silva’s cheeks burned and he was glad for the alcohol he had drunk while the others were all taking turns. If he was completely sober, he would never be able to go through with this. He wanted to kiss Cesc so badly, but not in front of a room full of guys. He wanted to kiss him in the privacy of their room, in his bed or Cesc’s – didn’t really matter. He wanted to feel Cesc on top of him. He…

“Silvi,” Cesc whispered.

Silva jumped. He had been so wrapped up in his fantasy that he hadn’t realized Cesc had turned to him. His face was just inches from his. His breath was hot on his lips and smelled sweet like candy. He locked eyes with Cesc. Cesc’s eyes were so similar to his own, but infinitely more beautiful than he could ever wish his to be. He tried not to blink or look away.

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” Cesc whispered so quietly he knew no one else could hear. Silva could barely hear.

Silva closed his eyes awaiting the amazing feel of Cesc’s lips on his.

Cesc frowned. He had to close his eyes, he thought. He didn’t even want to see me coming at him? He doesn’t want to kiss me. Cesc jumped out of the chair. “I can’t do this,” he practically shouted.

Silva’s eyes popped open and his face drew up in confusion. Cesc was at the door, opening it, and storming out before Silva could say a word. He glanced around to the other guys. Everyone wore the same mask of confusion. Even the guys playing cards perked up and they hadn’t paid any attention to the rest of the room since Pique tried to lick their dealer and got smacked for his effort and sent away.

“What just happened?” Iker asked.

All eyes were on Silva, expecting an answer. Silva shrugged his shoulders. “I – I don’t know. He said he was going to kiss me and then he just… well, you know, he left.”

“Maybe I should go talk to him,” Pique suggested. He didn’t wait for affirmation or arguments. He got up and walked out of the room quickly.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please leave some kudos and/or comments! I appreciate them! xx


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